Perfect practice makes perfect
Hope you had a nice holiday if you celebrated anything.
Saturday was beautiful so the wife and took a walk around the hood; it was warm enough for some ice cream. Spent Sunday contemplating my religion.
Saturday night, though, went to teach my fencing class.
A long time ago, there was this fella that had been taking the class for a lot longer than me but I would regularly beat. It was because he was always interested in learning the latest esoteric move and some secret technique while I just worked on the basics.
And the reason was simple: Repetition is the mother of skill – I had fewer tools to work with but the tools I had I knew well and practiced regularly. He never spent enough time on the basics to really get good at them.
To which I have to clarify the following: That saying that Practice makes perfect is yet another one of those sayings that are only partially true. The actual saying is Perfect practice makes perfect.
Thought about that on Saturday when my old instructor came back to lead the class and reminded me how much of a student I still am. I think he landed four strikes for every one of mine.
And so went home afterward and surely annoyed my wife as I waved a stick around in the middle of the night, going: One, two, three…
Location: in a Monday
Music: Too late for the young gun I said This is the year of the knife
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